Thursday, December 21, 2006

With Wooden Buttons And An Apple Core

i dreamt i traveled and found you there,
in the woods one Christmas Eve,
by Hayato Nagao

Nights before Christmas found me coldly reconciled at a dance party soothed with whiskey, cigarettes, and beautiful young people. Then, waking up in a big old house to a blinking VCR clock telling me that i was to be in the lab in mere minutes, and i was in the same clothes as the night before. Blurry contacts and disoriented, i shake the boy on the couch next to me and we stumble out into the twilight to bundled-up schoolchildren crossing the street and on the playground in the winter morning, our breath frozen before us. i had parked my little red car in a school zone the night before.

Hurry along, all...

Monday, December 04, 2006

Garden Wall Of Eden, Full Of Spiderbites And All Your Lovers

There is not anytime to breathe when the semester's end sneaks up on me - i am so tired and rusty. But i let out my first sigh of breath along this stretch on a Friday, when the term paper left my hands for the professor's, and i decided for my sanity to consciously avoid any later indulgences in my studies for things eukaryotic.

i thought, on the dark and cold Friday night leaving the lab that i would congratulate myself with the best coffee in the little city with a stack of papers to mark by my side. Alone at last...n
ot to last. Because Thursday and me and boy from a long time ago chanced upon each other and by Friday, we didn't mean to meet but did. He left the OR and found me in my snuggery, heavy with the smell of espresso. i took him to another, heavy with the smell of cigarettes and martinis, and by 4am, when the alcohol had cleared out of our systems, we said goodbye.

i woke to an empty house Saturday, but sleepy phonecalls catching back and forth from a lady i love woke me up at last - tea is what ladies have Saturday afternoons. And then they serve and have angry drinks with boys and friends when it gets darker in posh niches, and by midnight, they are hungry and drink Chinese beers in Chinatown and eat vegetarian noodles with burley men. By 2am, they drive to a hotel by the railroad tracks with a divebar for off-sales liquor and drink with the men back at the house until the morning.

Mourning Sunday morning because another boy in the house starts his cold lazy day off with waterfalls of pot, opening and closing the backdoor where i try to sleep - the fireplace is off in the morning. i rub my eyes and can taste the night before, but i ignore the blurry vision and hangover, and careful not to wake any other sleeping bodies, i take out the papers to mark until the house is bustling with hunger.

Vegan brunch to be had on a busy avenue, and i buy a small stack of cds that will dream me pretty dreams before we make it to the restaurant, and a pirate scarf after the pumpkin pesto tofu and yam hashbrowns. Somewhere in between, my cheeks blushing and anticipating, i saw the beautiful boy with whom i don't get to spend my Tuesdays or weekends with these days, to uncomfortable delight.

My weekplanner covered in cd stickers and i had agreed that i was not to see high jinx and hedonism until mid-December. But now, my brain works better after the coaxing from good and bad drinks, packs of cigarettes, and the wonderful people i get to be with. This week's end was a long and marvelous fuck up.